Subtext
by NevynR
Summary: When Castle slips a final draft of the next Nikki Heat book into Beckett's bag, he asks for her feedback before it goes to the publishers. Does life imitate art, or is it the other way around…?


Subtext

Summary: When Castle slips a final draft of the next Nikki Heat book into Beckett's bag, he asks for her feedback before it goes to the publishers. Does life imitate art, or is it the other way around…?

It had been a good day for Beckett. The case had been close relatively early, the paperwork all done at a reasonable hour. Castle had been remarkably restrained with his theories, and asked exactly the right questions in the interrogation room. And the best part? On their way out, he had slipped a package into her bag without her noticing until she got home.

Unlocking her door, she dumped her bag on the kitchen bench, and was surprised to see a rectangular, wrapped package slide out. Picking it up, she realised by it's size and weight it must be a book. Having an idea what was inside, she ripped the paper off, revealing a copy of the latest Richard Castle masterpiece, and he had managed to get it to her well over a month before it's release date. A silly grin on her face, she opened it up to the inside cover, trying very hard to convince herself she wasn't looking for the looking for the dedication.

A frown appeared as the dedication page had no typed words on it, but was replaced with a smile as she read his elegant handwritten message.

_KB,_

_I hope you enjoy the reading as much as I did the writing._

_I'd appreciate any feedback when you are done reading, in case there was anything you felt didn't ring true. I figure I poke my nose into your job enough, it's only fair you get the chance to do the same to me._

_I know you know the release date already, but somehow I think you will have it read through well before then. In case you were wondering, this copy is a special run, I was planning on holding off on giving the final draft to the publishers until you had had a chance to share your input._

_With thanks, always._

_RAR_

Beckett made her way to the bathroom and ran the bath, a goofy smile plastered on her face. Not only did she have the book (_before it even went to production print_, the fan-girl in her head squealed), but the fact that her favourite author was effectively asking for her help, and sharing the creative process with her turned her into a giggling fan of the highest order. Not that he needed to know that, of course. Excited to get started, she added bubble bath to the water, and grabbed a fresh bottle of wine from the kitchen, before sinking into the warmth with a contented sigh, picked up the book and lost herself in the easy flow of words.

With a weary sigh, Kate rose from the lukewarm water and wrapped herself in a towel. Frowning, she glanced at her very wrinkled feet, wondering just how long she had actually been in the bath for. Quickly, she dried herself off and headed to the bedroom, taking the book with her. Snuggling down, she turned the light off and glanced at the clock. _Oh crap!_ She thought. _4am already? I have to be awake in a couple of hours!_ She yawned, and let her eyes slide closed as sleep claimed her, a faint smile on her lips as she thought back over the book she had read from cover to cover.

Trying very hard not to ignore the alarm and just go back to sleep, Beckett staggered out of bed and got ready for work. She only just managed to stay awake for the cab ride to the precinct, and walked slowly to her desk, her mind unable to let go of the last scene of the book.

_Nikki paused, her hand raised to knock on the door of Rook's loft. Inside, she heard the sounds of the journalist taking, and not doing so quietly._

_"No, __**you**__ listen, Angie! I have told you twice already. Whatever arrangement we might have had in the past is over. No more booty calls, understand?" There was silence for several seconds, and he continued in a quieter tone. "It's because I am seeing somebody, Angie, and I don't want the best thing I've had going in a very long time to get fucked up, okay?"_

_Nikki realised Rook must be on the phone, and had to fill in the blanks herself. Trying hard to justify hanging around in front of his door, listening in to what was obviously a private conversation; she had to swallow once or twice to settle a flutter in her stomach. Her thoughts were interrupted as Rook's voice rose in pitch._

_"No. In fact, she couldn't care less about the money, or the fame. If I know her at all, she'd be much happier if I wasn't either." More silence. "What? You can't be serious! You, of all people, lecturing me about trust? Remind me again who cheated on whom less than two weeks after our honeymoon? Hell, at least I waited until the ink was dry on the divorce papers before I went looking for some company. I trust her, because she's earned it, that's why. If you can't trust one of New York's finest, who the hell can you trust? She's saved my life more than once, that's good enough for me." A few seconds silence and he replied again. "Angie? This conversation is over. Don't bother calling me again." Nikki heard Rook give a massive sigh as he hung up the phone. Feeling considerably better about what she come to see him about, she knocked on his door and stepped back._

_The door opened, to reveal the journalist, dressed in a faded pair of jeans and an old black t-shirt, his hair messy, and a disgruntled look on his face. Seeing Heat standing in the doorway, his expression gradually eased somewhat, but the harried look remained around the edges of his eyes._

_"Nikki! Come on in. To what do I owe the honour?" He closed the door behind her, and took her coat. Hanging it up, he made his way into the kitchen and opened the fridge, removing two beers before opening both and passing her one._

_Necking the ice-cold beer, Nikki gave him a slightly concerned look and decided to see if she could get him to open up about the phone call, figuring it would be a good way to bring the subject of the two of them up, whatever __them__ could be classed as._

_"You ok, Rook? You're looking a little frazzled..."_

_"Yeah, I'll be ok." He replied, wearily. "I just finished speaking to the first ex Mrs Jameson Rook. She was... well..." He looked somewhat uncomfortable as he searched for the words. Waving Nikki over to the couch, he flopped down next to her, leaning back against the arm so that he faced her. He sighed, and ploughed ahead, realising that this was probably something Nikki needed to hear. "We divorced not long after we got married, because she couldn't seem to limit her appetites to just one man for very long. I guess I was a fool to get married to her, but I was young and stupid, and I thought I was in love. Despite the fact that broke my heart, well... the sex always was fantastic, at least when it was with me, I can't really vouch for the rest. A few years passed, and every now and then she'd come back to New York for some reason or another, and we'd hook up." He took a long pull on his beer, and went on. "As long as it was no strings attached, just a good time between people who knew which buttons to push, it was great. She's crazy though, never could stay in one place for long, and totally incapable of being faithful. You know, crazy person sex is great, but you can't make a relationship out of that alone, and I think I've reached the end of my patience with random bimbo's and starlets. The spark just isn't there, you know? I don't think I'm getting too old, just that I am after something... more real."_

_Nikki swallowed a mouthful of her beer and gave him a small smile. "You mean random sex with people just doesn't do it for you any more? You catch yourself wondering if you could see something lasting longer than a few weeks, being able to look ahead years or more, and still seeing the same person's face?" Rook nodded slowly. She placed her bottle on the coffee table, and took his hand in her own. Nikki looked Rook over, giving him a slow, deliberate smile. Tugging him upright, she leaned in, their faces only inches apart as she held his gaze with her own, the static electricity in the air thickening, crackling. Nikki felt the iron bands around her heart loosen as she realised that she had the same fears that held Rook back, that if they both just let it happen, they could dive in together. Softly, huskily, she whispered._

_"Rook, I think it's time we had a little talk." Her lips brushed his gently, slowly, as she cupped his face with her hands, drawing him to her. Different from their previous kisses, this one held not just the burning desire that always flowed between them, it held hope, and a promise of things yet unspoken._

Beckett's reminisces were cut short as Castle flopped into his chair and placed coffee cups on the desk between them.

"Good morning, Detective." His chipper mood at odds with her sleepy demeanour, she managed to give him a small smile.

"Morning, Castle." He slid a small cup in front of Beckett before she had a chance to pick up her usual cup.

"Something told me you might need something a little stronger to give you a kick start this morning, Beckett. I got you a double espresso to bring you up to par, before you sink you teeth into your usual."

"Castle, you are a life-saver!" She replied, greedily reaching for the small cup, downing it in a single gulp. She sighed happily as the hot caffeine slid down her throat, working its magic. Her morning got better after that, and the rest of the day seemed to fly past, despite the seemingly endless pile of paperwork, uninterrupted by dead bodies.

Nervously, Beckett looked at her watch, noting it was almost 7pm. She swallowed and looked back at the door to Castle's loft. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before knocking. Seconds later it opened, revealing her partner, still wearing the same clothes he had worn around the precinct.

"Beckett! Come in... Are you ok?" He ushered her inside. "Beer?"

"Thanks Castle, I think I need one." she followed him to the kitchen, and sat down on one of the stools. He opened her bottler for her, and slid it across the bench. Taking a good swig, she sighed as she let some of the stress ease out of her.

"So..." She said, trying to marshal her thoughts. "I finished the book last night..." Castle sat his own beer down and looked at her, his eyes searching her face for any hint of what she thought.

"And...?"

"I couldn't put it down. I do have a couple of questions though..." Castle made his way over to the couch and sat down, relaxing as sipped his beer, waiting for Beckett to ask her questions. Beckett sat, mirroring his position. Taking a breath, she continued.

"First off," She asked. "I know that there's a lot that is just you telling a story, and there's a lot that you use your research as a basis."

"Of course..." He replied, wondering where she was heading with her line of questioning.

"So tell me, Castle... The last scene, in the loft..." She took another mouthful of beer, buying a few seconds before she took the plunge, asking "How much of Rook was in that scene, and how much was Richard Castle?"

"A little bit of Rook, a lot of Richard Castle, and a small side serve of imagination, if you must know..." He looked apprehensive as he replied, hoping that she wouldn't freak out.

"That bit about the ex wife...?"

"Mostly Castle, sadly. You've met Meredith, she's not exactly the stable type... We got married not long after we found out she was pregnant with Alexis. I'd have stayed with her, but I came home from spending some time out writing and to find her 'entertaining' one of her directors. We could have probably worked through it, but after the second time it happened, and I found out it was hardly a rare occurrence, I told her it wasn't going to work. I couldn't put our child through that, I decided that having a mother who wasn't there was a better option than having mummy bring home strange men every time daddy left the house. We divorced not long after that. She was, and still is, incapable of not chasing after the latest shiny toy, be it men, shoes or handbags. After the last time she was in town, I decided that my taste for Deep Fried Twinkies had well and truly faded. I did a lot of thinking over the last year or more, and decided there were certain parts of my past that are behind me for a reason, including both my ex-wives. We didn't work out for a reason. With Meredith, it was her cheating, and with Gina, well… I thought Alexis needed a stable female influence in her life. I had known Gina for a few years already, and we worked well together, but it was never anything really deep. Looking back on it, she wasn't a brilliant role-model for Alexis, and it was more about the money, and the parties and the celebrity for her. I never should have married her, and it certainly was a mistake to take her to the Hamptons with me over the summer… One of the many mistakes I made." He drained his beer and paused, weighing his words carefully. "Rook and I seem to be in the same place right now, both looking for something... lasting. The only differences really are that Rook doesn't have much holding him back, less baggage. I have a daughter to consider, and unlike him, I've been out of the whole Page 6 spotlight for a good while now. Alexis doesn't need that kind of attention being drawn to me, and truth be told, I realised a while back it was about time I grew up and started being a responsible adult. I reached a point where I could see myself settling down. After Kyra, I was hurt, and Meredith pretty much finished the job. I can't see myself getting divorced again. I couldn't put either Alexis or me through it. It's taken me years, but I can see the appeal in once more and done." His eyes distant, he explained almost absently, his mind analysing his own emotions as he spoke.

Stunned at the brutally honest assessment of his past, Beckett's mind whirled. If she was honest with herself, she knew that she cared for the man sitting in front of her. The only thing that had held her back was the fear that it wouldn't work out, that she would fall for him, and he'd break her heart. In the face of his revelations, she knew that those fears were unfounded. He had promised to stand by her, always, and it finally seems as though they were both ready to take the next step. Swallowing, she mentally braced herself, and took the plunge.

"The last scene works, Castle. I think Nikki can see where Rook is coming from. They needed time to get to where they are, and if they had tried do go there sooner, it probably wouldn't have worked. Nikki was too closed off; she needed Rook to bring the walls down enough for her to be able to be honest with herself, to let him in, to let herself back into her own heart." She paused, a faint blush staining her cheeks. "You did a very good job with Nikki in that scene, Rick. There's a lot more of me in her than I thought…" She swallowed, and went on, feeling the symmetry of the moment. "There are a few things I need to take care of, but…" She finished her beer, and placed the bottle on the coffee table, next to his. Leaning forward, she took his hand and searched his eyes, their faces close. A moment's pause, and then she closed the distance between them, her lips almost brushing his as she whispered, full of promise. "Rick, I think it's time we had a little talk…"


End file.
